


No Questions Asked

by prozacplease



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Caretaking, Children, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Implied Hydra Husbands, Kid Bucky Barnes, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-08 18:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prozacplease/pseuds/prozacplease
Summary: Brock is assigned to be the guardian of the de-aged Winter Soldier. The only problem is that he doesn't know anything about kids.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rather than follow a tight narrative, this will only focus on cute little vignettes. The gist is that Bucky is temporarily a child and Brock and Jack are his reluctant but loving parents. That's it.

Brock doesn't often ask questions. He likes to joke that he doesn't get paid enough to do so, but the reality is that he is a soldier. And soldiers don't ask questions. They merely follow orders. But this morning, Brock has some questions.

“What the fuck did you do to him?”

He doesn't look to the cluster of nervous techs and doctors in the corner of the room. His eyes are instead focused on what he is seeing through the CCTV feed.

A toddler is sitting on the floor of a brightly lit room, playing with a pile of Duplo blocks. He is dressed in only a pull-up diaper and a tiny hospital gown.

“There was an accident during a gene splicing experiment…”

Brock doesn't care about the science behind it. He is still trying to comprehend the fact that the Winter Soldier has been somehow reduced to this tiny child. At first, he laughed. He thought it was a prank.

The resemblance is unmistakable, however. Shaggy brown hair falls around the boy’s shoulders and he has the asset’s round puppy face. But Brock is relieved to see that he has both arms, which he is using to build a tower of colored blocks.

“And so what? He's going to be like this forever?” Brock interrupts.

“We don't know. He could revert at any time, just like he did when he initially de-aged.”

 _“Revert?”_ Brock repeats the word like it means nothing to him. He's pissed. “I'm supposed to be taking the asset out for an assassination op at 0500 tomorrow.”

“All missions involving the Winter Soldier have been suspended as per Secretary Pierce’s instruction,” one of the lead techs says. “He wanted us to inform you, since you are the asset's most experienced handler.”

“I can't fucking believe this,” Brock says to no one in particular. “Why is he in there alone? Where are his clothes?”

The techs seem dumbfounded by Brock's questions, as if they didn't expect him to be concerned about the child's welfare. “He is being cared for in the remote holding facility. We don't yet have clothes for him…”

“If he doesn't at least have socks on when I come back, someone's getting throat punched.”

Brock doesn't know why he's so mad. The only thought that comes to mind is that a secret military base is no place for a little kid. That is in the forefront of his mind as he stalks his way through the upper levels of the Triskelion.

When he arrives at Pierce's office, he's not even in the mood to flirt with the secretary. Brock isn't interested in her, he just feels pity and concern for the fact that she has pictures of her cats on her desk.

“Secretary Pierce is unavailable, but he wants you present at a meeting this afternoon. He said you would know what it was about,” she says. Her eyes are wet behind her glasses and her nose is red.

Feeling a bit defeated, Brock leans on the office counter she is seated behind. “What's the matter?”

“Oh, nothing…”

But then she gives the tearful account of how she accidentally shut one of her cat’s tails in a door this past weekend. Brock manages to listen patiently and even makes a noise of sympathy when she pulls out her phone to show him pictures of the cast on her poor cat's tail. He makes a mental note to send her flowers because he's pretty sure her cats are the children she will never have with the husband she won't find.

Afterward, Brock wants to find Jack and tell him about all the weird shit going on, but, as usual, he's not answering any texts. Sometimes Brock gets annoyed and just sends him five or six in a row. That never gets Jack’s attention either.

He doesn’t see Jack until they both show up at the meeting in the boardroom adjacent to Pierce’s office. The entire STRIKE Team Brock leads is present, because they have all worked closely with the asset in the past. Their upcoming mission has been affected by this turn of events.

 _“What the fuck?”_ Jack mouths at Brock from across the table, no doubt wondering what this meeting is about.

Brock shrugs. He already knows what has happened, but he’s not about to say it out loud. Jack wouldn’t believe him anyway.

When Pierce arrives, he is followed by one of the doctors Brock spoke to earlier in the morning. He’s pale and tense, which means he is probably responsible for this unbelievable clusterfuck of a situation. The team reacts the same way Brock did. First, some of them laugh. They don’t believe it. Then there is a fair amount of dismay. Jack isn’t the only one casting concerned glances at Brock, who stays quiet.

“Is it permanent?” one of them asks.

This begins a cascade of questions, many of which the doctor doesn’t have an answer for. Despite the fact that they have all been trained to see the asset as a tool, they are also concerned about what will become of him. Finally, Brock gives a little wave to get the doctor’s attention, which simultaneously silences the rest of his team.

“What do you need from us?” he asks.

“We’ve decided that the asset needs a consistent caretaker during this time,” the doctor says. “We’ve been running tests to determine if he has any memory of previous handlers.”

Brock says nothing, which prompts the doctor to continue on.

“We showed him pictures of various personnel while running scans on his brain. His hippocampus showed the most activity when he saw photos of you.”

“And?”

“That means he remembers you.”

Brock takes a friendly punch to one shoulder and then an elbow to his ribcage on the opposite side. The room is full of little “awws” and thumps to the table.

“I bet it’s because you are always giving him snacks,” one of his teammates points out.

The doctor raises an eyebrow because the asset isn’t supposed to receive food outside his approved nutrition plan. But Brock has never let rules stop him from giving the asset a granola bar or a piece of candy.

“We were hoping the asset could be cared for by someone he’s familiar with. And since all of your missions have been grounded until further notice…” The doctor’s voice trails.

Brock is incredulous. “You want me to take care of a toddler?”

Suddenly the entire team is riled again. And this time they are clamoring for Brock to accept this new assignment.

“No, no, absolutely fucking not,” Brock says, trying to quell what very well may become a riot. “I don’t know anything about kids.”

“You wouldn’t be unassisted. Our team will work closely with you,” the doctor says, as if that sweetens the deal.

“You’re the ones who got us into this mess!” Brock snarls.

Pierce finally speaks. His oily voice is meant to soothe, but it only irritates Brock further. “You’ll be compensated quite well for this, Brock.”

Brock isn’t really interested in the money, but it seems that any refusal on his part is going to be ignored. His team wants him to do it, and a small part of Brock is worried about who would take his place. He knows from personal experience that HYDRA is full of creeps.

Brock crosses his arms, grouchy that he’s been defeated. “Fine.”


	2. Chapter 2

It is 4:00 in the morning. Brock and Jack are standing in a CVS.

“What about this one?” Jack asks, holding up a stuffed animal.

“What even is that?” Brock asks.

Jack turns the toy around to look at it and frowns. “I actually don’t know.”

“Pass.”

“Well, you gotta pick something.” Jack looks at his phone to check the time. “And soon.”

“Don’t pressure me,” Brock grumbles.

The techs advised Brock to arrive with a little gift for the toddler assassin, and he’s having a hard time deciding. All the stuffed animals are Valentine’s Day themed, bedecked with red and pink bows or holding hearts despite not having opposable thumbs.

The white bear with red paws would get dirty. The pink cat with glittery google eyes is creepy. He also passes on a unicorn, a puppy, and another bear because they’re all too sappy.

“What about this guy?” Jack asks.

It’s a gray bunny with a small red bow around its neck. Brock looks at it for a moment and decides it’s the least offensive option. It's maybe even a little cute. He fully expects the kid to look at it for two seconds and throw it on the floor, so he’s not sure why this seems like an important decision.

“Yeah, that's the one,” Brock says.

Jack tosses the bunny to him like it’s a football rather than a stuffed animal. “You’re takin’ this way more serious than I thought you would.”

Brock makes no attempt to catch it gracefully. He just shrugs.

The holding facility in upstate New York is several hundred miles away from Washington, D.C. Brock isn’t really looking forward to living in such a remote location, but he packed all his possessions into two rucksacks anyway. Jack is carrying one of them; his own luggage is merely a backpack. He has to travel back to the Triskelion in a few days, but agreed to help Brock get settled.

There’s snow on the small runway when the quinjet lands, and Brock curses because he didn’t bring his parka.

“It’s New York, not Antarctica,” Jack says as a crew takes their bags.

Brock has only a jacket on. “Sure fuckin’ feels like Antarctica,” he growls.

They are lead into the facility, where they have to show their credentials at multiple checkpoints. The security makes sense for housing the Winter Soldier… a toddler, not so much. Brock is anxious during the briefing, where he again meets the techs who seem to be responsible for this predicament. He bounces his knee so much that Jack elbows him to stop. They are told the asset is stable—which supposedly means he isn’t going to be back to his murder machine self anytime soon.

A female tech leads them to the observation room where the asset is located. Through the window, Brock can see that it’s the same exact room he was in before.

“We told him he is going to meet some new people today, but he’ll probably still be shy,” she says.

“Has he been in this room the whole time?” he asks. If the stuffed rabbit was a real one, he would have strangled it by now. His grip on it is so tight.

“Only during the day.”

Brock is irritated by that. The only two things in the room are the asset and the bucket of Duplo blocks. But Brock sees that he’s dressed this time, even if it’s only in footie pajamas.

The tiny boy freezes when the door opens. He doesn’t seem frightened, only surprised by the two new faces he sees. The tech ushers Brock and Jack inside and then shuts the door. There is no doubt that they are now being observed too.

“Uh… Hey, buddy,” Brock says.

There’s nowhere to sit in the room. Brock plunks down on the floor so he doesn’t seem threatening and Jack follows suit. The asset doesn’t say anything, but he’s staring at them, unblinking. Brock tries his best to not be freaked out; who the fuck knows what this kid has been through already.

“My name’s Brock and this is my friend Jack,” Brock explains.

Jack waves and the asset gives a tiny, hesitant wave in return. The techs were right. He is shy. But Brock prefers shy over scared.

“We brought you a present,” Brock continues.

The asset’s big, gray eyes light up when he sees the rabbit. “Bunny!” he cries.

Brock grins. “Yeah, it’s a bunny,” he says, handing it over.

The asset hugs it to his chest but then looks hesitant again. “Mine?”

Brock isn’t sure what he means by that, and glances at Jack in confusion.

“Yeah, he’s yours, baby,” Jack says. “You can keep him.”

“Bunny,” the tiny asset repeats happily.

They watch as he carries the rabbit in one hand and picks up the bucket of Duplo blocks with the other. He drags it closer to Brock and Jack, then dumps them out on the floor.

“Oh, are we gonna build some stuff?” Brock asks.

The asset gives a little nod, setting the rabbit down to begin fitting the brightly colored bricks together.

“You’re really good at that,” Jack says. “Can I build too?”

He gets a wary glance—Brock figures that sharing is a new concept—but he doesn’t object to Jack taking a few blocks to build a small tower.

Brock was given some instructions on what to say. However, he's finding it hard to find the right words. “You're gonna stay with me for a while. I came up here special just for you,” he says carefully. He's not even sure if the kid is listening. “We're gonna have fun.”

“Bunny too?” the asset asks.

“Bunny too. And Jack,” Brock says.

The asset nods. “Jack,” he repeats in his tiny voice.

“That's me,” Jack says with a grin. “Can you say Brock?”

_“Bock!”_

He says it with such triumph and conviction that neither of them can stifle their laughter. The asset seems pleased by this and he gives the first smile Brock has seen since they arrived.

“When we’re done with the blocks, we’re gonna go see our new house,” Brock says. It’s not a house, but he doesn’t know what word to use. “I heard you have your own room.”

“Wanna go now,” the asset says, standing up. He runs over to the door, the rabbit in tow and the bricks forgotten on the tile floor.

Brock and Jack get to their feet, albeit more slowly than the tiny assassin did. They watch him reach up to pull on the lever door handle. He looks at them in surprise when the door opens, as if he’s tried many times, only to find it locked.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [Come hang out with me on Tumblr!](http://www.prozacplease.tumblr.com)
> 
> ♥ Comments are always appreciated. ♥


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